Author POV,
Arms crossed over her chest. "You said you'd be back after fifteen days. What happened to that plan? It's only been four!"
He shrugged nonchalantly, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. "I was missing you. That's all."
She scoffed. "Jhooth. Jhooth bol rahe hai aap. Kanha ek no. ka jhootha aadmi hai mera pati."
(Translation -(Lies. You're lying. Kanha, my husband is a number one liar!)
She rolled her eyes. "Well, I didn't miss you at all."
He smirked and teased, "You always keep that gossip partner of yours with you, don't you?"
She placed a hand on her waist and raised an eyebrow. "Of course! Koi toh meri baat sunta hai. Aap toh kabhi sunte hi nahi! Aapko toh bas mujhse shaadi karni thi aur phir mujhe yahan kisi kaidi ki tarah chhod diya, jabki khud aiyashiyan kar rahe hain"
(Translation - Of course! Someone has to listen to me. You certainly don't! All you cared about was getting married to me then you just left me here, like some prisoner, while you were having fun without any worries.)
He widened his eyes dramatically. "What?"
She threw her hands up. "Ek to mere pati ki education itni kamzor hai. Inko samajh hi nahi hai."
(Translate - Hey Kanha, first of all, my husband's education is so weak. He just doesn't understand anything.)
He smirked with a hint of mockery in his tone. "I've heard you lived in London too,"
She looked at him, her voice carried quiet strength. "Yes, but I went there to learn something not to forget my language like you did."
"Well, it's not my fault you don't understand Hindi! Do one thing from now on carry a translator with you, okay? That would be the best, Mr. Singhania!"
He suppressed a laugh, his eyes never leaving her. "Okay fine. But Baccha, dadi must be sleeping by now. Go rest in our room. I swear I won't come in. Promise."
She narrowed her gaze. "Promise?"
He stepped closer, placing a hand over his heart. "Promise. On you."
She looked at him for a moment, searching for even a hint of mischief in his eyes. But all she saw was honesty - wrapped in his usual charm. "Fine," she muttered, turning to leave.
But the moment she stepped forward, her foot twisted slightly, and her balance faltered. In a heartbeat, he was there strong arms catching her before she could fall. His hands gripped her waist, steadying her. Their bodies were close now.
"Careful, baccha," he said gently. "Where's your focus?"
She blinked up at him, startled. Her heart thudded in her chest not from the stumble, but from how close he was.
"Ever since I married you," she murmured bitterly, I've lost all my focus."
He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "You're welcome," he teased.
She quickly pulled his hands away from her waist and stepped back.
"Don't touch me. Just... don't. Hatiye"
She turned again, rushing away. But just before disappearing around the corner, she whispered to herself, unaware that his eyes still followed her
"Hey Kanha... What happens to me when Mr. Singhania is near? Please... don't let me become weak."
Next morning.
He stepped in with quiet precision, as though every footstep was measured, deliberate. He didn't want to wake her, especially not after watching her sleep so peacefully. Moving to the wardrobe, he opened it silently.
Just then, the door creaked ever so slightly and Roop entered. Her eyes widened a little as she caught sight of him.
"Adi baba... you're back?" she asked in a hushed whisper, as though afraid her voice would shatter the calm.
He brought a finger to his lips and gestured toward the bed where she still slept, curled up slightly, a stray lock of hair brushing her cheek.
"She's still sleeping. Keep it quiet," he whispered.
Roop nodded, stepping closer. "Do you need anything, Adi baba?"
"Yes, please. Roop di, can you prepare my protein shake?"
She smiled fondly. "Of course. I'll bring it to the gym."
As she quietly exited the room, He cast one more glance at the bed. The corners of his lips curved into a soft smile. And then, as silently as he had come, he slipped out, heading toward his gym area.
By the time she stirred awake, the room had already begun to fill with soft daylight. Her brows furrowed slightly as she looked around. Something felt... different. There was a lingering warmth, a trace of a familiar presence.
She sat up slowly, her fingers brushing over the sheets where the faint scent of his cologne still lingered.
Roop re-entered just then, carrying a small basket of towels.
"Bhabhi, you're awake?"
She nodded. "Hmm... yeah. And where's Mr. Singhania?"
Roop smiled. "Adi baba is in the gym."
She blinked, half-shocked. "Already? In the gym? How does he even...?"
She mumbled to herself as she ran her fingers through her tousled hair. "Where does my husband get so much energy? He never rests, never eats properly. And still manages to function like a machine. What is this man made of?"
Roop chuckled lightly, folding the towels neatly. "Bhabhi, should I clean the room now? If Adi baba comes in and sees it messy, he'll definitely scold me."
She frowned. "Why would he scold you?"
Roop answered honestly, "He absolutely hates mess. Even a hair out of place irritates him."
She groaned, throwing her hands up. "Great. Clean it, please. Or else, your Adi baba will turn this entire house upside down."
With a dramatic sigh, she got off the bed and went to Dadi's room. She helped Dadi get ready. Together, they descended the stairs.
He, freshly showered and dressed in his sleek black gym wear, looked up from his phone as he saw her. Her hair was still damp from her shower, her face fresh and glowing without effort.
His breath caught in his chest. His lips moved in a whisper no one heard, "So beautiful..."
He stepped forward, a smile lighting up his face. "Good morning, jaan."
His voice was smooth, deep, familiar and somehow more personal than it had ever sounded.
Then turning to Dadi with his usual charm, he greeted, "Good morning, Dadi."
Dadi looked at him with surprise, her eyes narrowing in mock sternness. "You're back already? Weren't you supposed to return after fifteen days?"
He took her hand gently, placing a respectful kiss on it. "I came back early just to see you. Aren't you happy to see your Adi?"
Then, casting a teasing glance toward her, he added, "It's understandable that my wife wouldn't be excited. But even my Dadi doesn't seem happy to see me anymore?"
Dadi clicked her tongue. "These days, my Adi, do nothing that makes me happy. And after everything that's happened, it feels like it doesn't even matter to you."
His jaw clenched slightly, but his voice remained calm. "Dadi, I've told you this before... and I'll say it again. If you need time, take it. I won't stop you."
His eyes turned to her for a moment warm, firm, sure. "But please, don't bring up the past again. The day our marriage happened, that topic ended. Meera is my wife. That's all there is to it."
The silence that followed was heavy, but he didn't falter. Instead, he shifted gently, offering a softer tone.
"You were going to the temple, right? Come. I'll take you."
Placing a supportive hand on Dadi's shoulder, he escorted her toward the puja room with quiet reverence. Before stepping away, he turned to her caretaker and spoke with quiet command:
"Make sure Dadi has her breakfast. And once she's done, give her medicine. I don't want her blood pressure spiking just because her grandson decided to come home early."
She made her way toward the dining area, pretending not to notice how her eyes were still looking for him.
Moment later,
By the time she reached, he was already there standing near the table, sipping his black coffee, reading something on his tablet. His gym shirt clung to his arms, and a soft lock of damp hair had fallen over his forehead.
He glanced up, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Good morning again, Mrs. Singhania," he said, voice teasing. "Honestly, I thought you'd show up straight in the evening."
She gave him a cold look, crossing her arms. "Don't call me that name."
He took another sip of coffee, unbothered. "But you're wearing my surname, Baccha."
She shot back instantly, "I didn't ask for your surname."
He tilted his head, his gaze scanning her face like it was his favorite book. "No, you didn't," he admitted, voice softer now. "But it suits you."
Their eyes locked for a long moment.
Then Chhaya walked in, smiling innocently, completely unaware of the moment she interrupted. "Bhabhi, I've laid out your breakfast. Shall I call Dadi ji?"
She nodded quickly, stepping back. "Yes... yes, please."
His lips curled upward. "I'm going for a shower," he announced casually and stood up with lazy grace. As he walked away, She exhaled.
Vansh, entrance with his signature charm and a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. His sunglasses still clung to his face, despite being indoors a statement, perhaps, of his never-fading swagger.
She sat on the sofa, legs tucked under her, half-heartedly scrolling through her phone, pretending to be calm.
He spotted Aditya coming down the stairs, adjusting his watch with that signature calm confidence.
"Abey, you're finally here!" he called out to him with a casual cheer.
Then his eyes flicked to her, and that grin of his widened playfully. "Ohhh... the dangerous one is here too," he added with exaggerated drama, as if he'd just spotted a wild tiger lounging in the living room.
She shot him a sharp glare and crossed her arms. "Oh please. This was your and his idea, wasn't it?"
Vansh held up both hands in innocent defense, the smirk never quite leaving his face. "Hey, don't blame me. I didn't even know this man was back! He didn't tell me anything."
"Liar," she snapped. "You both are liars. You really think I'm that dumb? "I know how you two work. Partners in crime. You knew he was coming, and you planned to dump me in his room"
Vansh looked wounded. "Look at this! I came here like a good brother, just to drop you off at the university... and now you're biting my head off."
All this while, he stood silently midway on the stairs, his one hand resting on the railing as he watched the banter unfold below. His eyes were on her amused, but curious too. She noticed his silence and that only added fuel to the fire.
Looking up at him, Vansh called out, "Adi, come on, say something. Why are you just standing there like a statue?"
But before he could even part his lips, her voice cut in, sharp and fast,"You don't need to explain anything. I know exactly what this is."
And with that, she stood up and stormed toward the kitchen, her dupatta trailing behind her like a flag of defiance.
"Jungli billi," Vansh muttered under his breath with a smirk.
He walked down the last few stairs, Vansh turned toward him with a half-smile and a sigh. "Bro, seriously. If you were planning to come back, you could've at least given me a heads-up."
He replied calmly, though he seemed distracted. "I had a meeting here, that's why I came early."
Vansh raised a brow. "Hmm. Meeting, huh? Sure that's the only reason?"
He didn't answer.
"Yeah, yeah... your oh-so-important meeting."
Then he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Do you know how hard I worked to convince her to stay in your room? Do you? You just blew the whole plan like it was nothing."
His eyes widened. "Wait, that's why she was in there?"
He nodded gravely, like a soldier reporting on a lost battle. "Exactly."
"You couldn't tell me this before?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"What's the point now?" Vansh replied with a small, smug smile.
He stepped closer and threw an arm around Vansh's shoulder, pulling him into a light, almost brotherly hold. "Okay, tell me the truth, what exactly did you say to her?"
Vansh grinned cheekily. "Now that the plan's ruined, what's the point of telling you?"
He grabbed him by the collar. "You definitely said something about me, didn't you?"
"You are the groom, idiot," Vansh said, elbowing him playfully. "Just trying to help you out."
"Do you want her back in your room or not?"
A small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Of course."
"Then that's exactly what I was working on," Vansh said with a wink.
"I want her. But... His voice turned soft. "I want her to come back to me on her own."
Vansh leaned casually against the pillar, watching his friend with a knowing look.
But beneath the teasing exterior, there was something genuine in his tone when he said, "Adi... when you married her, you didn't even wait. You didn't think twice. Didn't it cross your mind what she might feel?"
He turned to him, his jaw tightening. "I didn't wait... because I couldn't. I didn't have that luxury," he said, his voice low, calm, but with a raw edge. "I didn't think about right or wrong. I didn't think about what she'd say or how she'd react."
He looked down at his hands for a moment, then backed up eyes burning with something deeper.
"Because I just couldn't watch her belong to someone else, Vansh. The idea of her... with anyone else... it would've destroyed me. I would've lost myself."
He looked away for a second, toward the direction of the kitchen though he couldn't see her, his voice softened when he spoke again. "She's here now. In this house. Married to me. That's enough. Even if she chooses to stay in Dadi's room forever, even if she never looks at me the way I look at her... it's okay."
He swallowed hard, hiding the lump in his throat behind a faint smile. "I just want her to be happy. That's all I care about. If she's comfortable there, she should stay. As long as she's under this roof... as long as she's somewhere my eyes can find her, I can live."
Vansh stared at him, the usual mischief gone from his face. His voice dropped into something more heartfelt as he said,
"Adi... What kind of love is this, man? It's rare. Pure."
Vansh gave a light smile, more emotional than amused. "She's really lucky. Not because you married her... but because she's loved by you like this."
Just then, his phone rang. His brows furrowed as he read the screen it was something urgent. After a brief call.
He turned to Vansh with purposeful steps. "Vansh, come with me. This task involves you too," he said, his tone brisk.
Vansh, ever curious, raised a brow but nodded. "Alright, lead the way."
"Kabir," he said sharply, "take Baccha to the university. Be careful, alright? No mistakes today. From now on, you're staying with her only her."
Kabir gave a slight bow of his head. "Understood, boss."
With that, he turned and headed into the kitchen.
The kitchen staff was standing near the stove, humming softly as she prepared something. She sat cross-legged on the slab, biting an apple.
They noticed his entrance, quietly excused themselves from the kitchen, giving the couple privacy.
She was about to hop down from the slab when he raised his hand slightly.
"Don't get down. Sit."
She paused, one leg mid-air, then gave him a puzzled look but stayed put.
"I'm heading to the showroom," he began, stepping closer. "You'll go to university with Kabir today. He'll stay with you for the entire day from now on."
She blinked at him, then frowned.
"But Mr. Singhania, seriously? Do I need bodyguards shadowing me 24/7? I'm not a fragile flower, you know. I can go without security."
He stepped even closer, his tone low but final. "I'm not asking, Baccha. I'm telling you. This is how it's going to be."
She narrowed her eyes at him, defiant but intrigued. He reached toward the apple she was holding, clearly intending to steal a bite, but she snatched it away, holding it behind her back.
Denying him with a shake of her head.
He raised his eyebrows, pretending to be offended. "Really?"
"Nice try," she said.
He chuckled and turned to leave, his amusement evident in the glint of his eyes. But just before he could step out, she reached out and caught him by the collar of his shirt. He turned back with a raised brow.
She extended the apple toward him.
"Here," she said teasingly. "I'm not as mean as you. Take it."
He grinned and took a slow bite, his gaze never leaving hers. Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed her cheek gently, leaving a trail of warmth that rushed to her face.
She gasped, her eyes widened. She slapped his chest lightly with mock irritation. "Who told you to do that?!"
He didn't answer. He simply gave a smug smile, like a thief proud of his loot, and walked out.
She sat there in stunned silence, heart fluttering against her ribs. Once he was out of earshot, she muttered softly to herself, shaking her head, "Mr. Monster Singhania... samjhte kya hain apne aap ko"
Roop stepped outside, her dupatta fluttering slightly in the morning breeze. Her eyes instantly caught Vansh and Kabir standing near the car, talking about something in low tones. A mischievous glint sparkled in her gaze as she walked toward them.
"Well, well... where are you off to, Kabir ji?" she asked, tilting her head slightly and offering a teasing smile.
Kabir, arms folded, didn't even bother to look properly at her. "What's it to you?" he muttered, his tone flat and disinterested.
Vansh, leaning against the bonnet of the car, smirked at the tension. He clearly enjoyed this odd dynamic between them.
"Oh, it is my concern," Roop said sweetly, brushing imaginary dust off her saree's border. "After all, the whole house talks about you being the boss's right hand... and here you are, always running from me."
Kabir exhaled, rolling his eyes.
Vansh chuckled and pushed himself upright. "Roop, didn't you say you wanted my help with something?"
Her eyes lit up with feigned innocence. "Still do."
"Then help me first. Quid pro quo," Vansh said casually.
Roop narrowed her eyes. "Help with what exactly, Bhaiya?"
He stepped forward, lowering his voice like they were planning a heist. "I want to shift Meera into Adi's room. It has to look natural no chaos. Just smooth execution."
Roop's eyebrows shot up, intrigued. "Hmm... risky but fun."
"And," Vansh added dramatically, "our soldier here-Kabir-is part of it."
Kabir's head jerked to face Vansh. "What?! Bhai..."
Before he could finish, Vansh gripped Kabir's arm tightly and whispered, "Calm down..."
Roop smirked. "Leave it, bhaiya. This man won't lift a finger unless it's an order barked by his boss."
Kabir frowned, clearly annoyed. "You talk too much. Maybe mind your own business?"
She shrugged. "You are my business right now. Poor Vansh bhaiya is just trying to make you interesting."
"Enough, both of you," Vansh interjected, holding his hand up. "We'll meet later for the actual planning. Just us three. It needs precision. Timing. Coordination."
Roop nodded, still staring at Kabir. "I'm in. Par kaise Vansh bhaiya."
But Vansh raised a finger. "I already have my doctor, and I'm clearly not falling for you, so no risk there. Which means... if anyone is left to accidentally fall in love, it's Kabir."
Roop laughed under her breath. "How romantic."
Kabir stepped back. "There's nothing going to happen. Don't even think like that."
Vansh threw his arm around Kabir's shoulders and looked at him with mock sincerity. "Don't you want to see your boss finally smile properly? With his wife?"
Kabir sighed heavily. "Of course I do."
Roop folded her arms, amused. "Bhaiya, does your brain ever take a break?"
"Never," Vansh said proudly. "And when I'm talking, both of you listen. And Kabir whether you admit it or not, you're in this plan."
He tapped Kabir's chest. "And I'm not saying you'll fall in love with Roop. I'm just saying... maybe God has already started writing your story. Who knows?"
Roop smiled softly now, looking down for a moment. "I'm in, bhaiya. Fully committed to this crazy plan. Baki logon ka mujhe nahi pta."
Kabir glanced between the two of them, clearly conflicted, but finally sighed. "Fine. Anything for the boss."
As Roop turned around to leave, she muttered just loud enough for Kabir to hear, "Stubborn man."
Kabir watched her walk away, an unreadable look on his face, while Vansh smiled slyly, already sensing something beginning to shift.
Later,
Kabir drove silently as Meera gazed out the window, lost in thought. The breeze fluttered the edges of her dupatta. As the university gate approached, she straightened up and turned toward Kabir.
"Kabir," she said firmly, "you and the rest of the security team stay here, alright?"
Kabir, ever loyal and alert, glanced around cautiously and nodded. "Bhabhi, you don't worry. I'll stay close with the team. The security will maintain distance unless there's any signal from you."
She gave him a small nod, appreciating his professionalism, then stepped out of the car and started walking toward the campus.
Just a few steps in, Ananya's chirpy voice cut through. "Meera!"
Meera turned and found her best friend rushing toward her with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"What's going on?" she asked, suspicious but curious.
Ananya smiled, holding her hand. "I have a surprise for you. Something or rather, someone you weren't expecting."
She frowned. "What kind of surprise?"
Ananya glanced at the security in the distance and whispered, "Come inside. I'll show you in class. Let's just say... it's a face from the past."
The moment she stepped into the quiet, empty classroom, her heart stopped. Sitting on a bench, leaning back casually with his arms crossed, was Rohan the man who once promised her forever.
"Rohan?" she whispered in disbelief, her body going still.
He stood up slowly, his eyes holding a thousand unspoken emotions. "Hi, Meera."
Before she could react, Ananya stepped back. "I'll give you two some space," she said and exited, closing the door behind her gently.
She turned to Rohan, her voice still shaky. "What are you doing here?"
"I came because I couldn't stay away any longer," he said calmly. "I can't see you like this, Meera. You don't belong in that house... in that relationship."
She blinked slowly, then laughed bitterly. "You think it's that simple? Just walk out and everything will be fine?"
Rohan stepped closer. "You don't have to stay trapped, Meera. I can help you. We can fix this."
But she stepped back, her voice low and serious. "You don't understand what you're getting into. He's not... ordinary. His anger... his control... You think you can just walk in and save me? His security is right outside. How do you plan to get me out? Where will we go?"
Rohan stayed silent.
"I've accepted this now," she continued, pain glimmering behind her brave smile. "Whatever happened, however it happened... I'm married. And I'm not going anywhere. Not anymore."
"But why?" he asked, frustration rising in his tone.
"Because this is my life now," she said.
"And you need to accept it too. Rohan, your business is finally doing well. Why throw it all away for a battle you can't win?"
He looked at her, helpless. "But I love you..."
Her eyes softened, but her tone remained steady. "And I'll always respect that. You've always been kind. But love isn't enough when fear becomes your everyday reality."
A tear escaped her eye, but she quickly wiped it away. "He's unpredictable. You don't know what he can do. If you try to help me, I won't be able to stop him... from destroying everything you have."
She took a deep breath. "So please, Rohan. Go back. For your own safety."
Rohan looked down, defeated. "Can I at least meet you sometimes?"
She managed a faint smile. "You can... but be careful. And only if it doesn't draw attention. His men are always watching. My security is right outside that door."
Rohan nodded slowly, eyes lingering on her face as if memorizing it. She turned to leave, her heart pounding, her chest tight.
As she stepped out of the classroom,
She stepped outside, the weight of everything clawing at her chest. Her vision blurred slightly, but she quickly blinked the tears away, not wanting anyone to see her like this. But Ananya noticed. Without hesitation, she walked over and gently took Meera's hand, pulling her away from the hallway into a quiet corner near the stairs.
She didn't resist. Her shoulders were tense, lips trembling slightly.
Ananya's arms opened naturally, and she hugged her, whispering, "It's okay... just breathe."
The hug lasted longer than most. Then, still holding onto her friend's hand, Ananya guided her down to sit on the stairs.
They sat there in silence for a moment, just the distant murmur of voices in the background.
Ananya finally broke the silence. "What happened, Meera? Rohan came to help you, didn't he? Why did it look like something went wrong?"
Meera let out a shaky breath. "I told him not to help me."
"What? Why?" Ananya's voice was soft but laced with confusion. "He would have helped you genuinely. He was just worried for you."
She looked at her with a gaze filled with conflict. "You don't know my husband, Ananya. He can go to any extent. And if Rohan tries to interfere again, he won't even get close enough for Mr. Singhania to step in. The personal bodyguard standing outside that man alone is enough to handle things."
Ananya stared at her. "You're saying he'd... hurt Rohan?"
She shook her head slowly. "He wouldn't have to. That man doesn't need to lift a finger. His presence is enough to make people think twice. I know Rohan's intentions are good... but there are boundaries now. I'm married. I've accepted it. And he-Mr. Singhania-he doesn't demand anything. He just wants me within sight. That's all. His obsession... is something different."
There was no hate in her voice. Just a strange calmness, as if she had made peace with something that still scared her.
Ananya gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "But Meera, what if things get worse? What if he..."
"He hasn't done anything wrong," She interrupted firmly. "Not once. Since our wedding, he's never crossed any line. I've been living with his Dadi. And unko koi problem bhi nahi and everyone believes I'm there because she wants me to there, but I know that's only half the truth. I'm there because he wants me there."
She gave a soft, ironic laugh. "And let's be real no one can make Aditya Singhania do anything. That man listens to no one. Not even himself sometimes. Or unko mujhe apne room mein le jana hota to unhe koi nahi rok sakta tha."
Ananya tilted her head. "So... You've fallen love with him?"
She looked away, then nodded slowly. "I don't love him, Ananya. Not at all. And I probably never will. But yes... I respect him. And I've never felt uncomfortable around him. Never unsafe."
Ananya narrowed her eyes, searching hee expression. "Are you saying you feel safe with him?"
A pause. A whisper of a smile danced on her lips. "Yes. I do. And I don't know why."
For a while, silence hung between them again.
She sighed, changing the topic. "Who all lives in that mansion of his? Everyone knows about his business empire... but his house, his people-that's all a mystery."
She leaned back slightly, her tone thoughtful. "There are a lot of people in that house... but very few who actually belong there. The staff, the security guards, his grandmother... and now, me. Mr. Singhania himself is rarely home. Mera pati ghar par rahta hi nahi hai."
She chuckled lightly. "And his best friend-you know him-Vansh Rathore? They're like twins. Talk the same, plan the same... sometimes I feel like they share the same brain."
"And his family?"
"I really don't know about his parents. But his friend's parents treat him like their own son. They care about him deeply. And he's such a stubborn man. Cold on the surface, tough to read... yet everyone around him either respects him or loves him. It baffles me."
Ananya smiled faintly. "Maybe that's the paradox of men like him. Hard to reach, harder to ignore."
She gave her a long, unreadable look. "Maybe."
That Evening,
She stepped inside with a quiet sigh, her heart still racing with unease. "Hey Kanha," she whispered internally, her fingers tightening around the edge of her dupatta, "Please just make sure Kabir didn't spot Rohan... if he did, it'll turn into a disaster."
The familiar comfort of the house didn't ease her anxiety. She walked slowly toward Dadi's room, hoping to distract herself in her warm company. Dadi was arranging her medicines when she sat down beside her. One glance at her Dadi's face, and the old woman knew something was wrong.
"Meera beta, kya hua? You look pale," she asked gently, placing a wrinkled hand on her shoulder.
She quickly shook her head, forcing a tight smile. "Kuch nahi, Dadi... I'm okay. Just a little tired, that's all."
As they were talking, the door creaked open and he stepped inside. He halted mid-step when he saw them together his wife and his deep in quiet conversation, sharing a moment he felt oddly excluded from. There was a twinge in his chest, subtle but sharp.
They both grew quiet the moment he entered, and that silence stung more than he wanted to admit.
Feigning a cheerful tone, he crossed his arms. "Wow. Dadi's upset with me. My wife is upset with me. What do I do now stop coming home altogether?" He raised an eyebrow, teasing but with an edge. "I mean, if that's what you both want, I can just shift to the showroom permanently."
Dadi gave him a long, thoughtful look, then stood up with a sigh. "I'll go downstairs," she said simply.
But before she could pass him, he softened and stepped forward, gently pulling her into a hug. He pressed a kiss on her forehead with affection and a hint of mischief. "Go ahead, Dadi. It's like a game of hide and seek when I'm downstairs, you're upstairs. And when I finally come upstairs, you go downstairs. But it's okay... go carefully. Don't trip on your way," he added playfully.
Dadi chuckled and gave him a little pat on the cheek. "Drama king," she muttered under her breath before walking out, leaving she alone with her unpredictable husband.
He turned to her with a boyish grin. He walked closer, narrowing his eyes as if inspecting her. "Tell me something, baccha... is Dadi more interesting than me?" His voice lowered, his tone playful. "Because if she is, I should be very worried."
She turned away slightly, hiding the faint curve of a smile on her lips. "Chi, Mr. Singhania... you really say the most ridiculous things," she replied, shaking her head.
He descended the steps slowly, like a predator measuring each movement. "How was class?"
"Normal," she said, trying not to blink.
His eyes narrowed. "Anything... unexpected?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
There was a long silence. Then he smiled slightly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
He said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, "You tell me. Did anything... or anyone from the past walk into your perfect little present today?"
Her heart skipped a beat, "Wo collage hai waha to bahut log aate hai, Mr. Singhania."
He whispered, leaning closer. "You know, Kabir's report said something interesting, baccha."
She stepped back, her eyes cool. "You told me to behave like your wife. I'm doing exactly that handling things myself."
His hand caught her wrist mid-step. "There's a difference between handling things and hiding them."
Then Kabir arrived and knocked on the door with urgency in his tone. His voice followed right after, "Boss, sorry to disturb you both, but I need to talk to you. It's important."
He, who had been standing front of her, looked down at her with that same intense yet gentle gaze. Without saying a word at first, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Baccha," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "you rest."
His voice was calm, but there was a trace of authority in it as if even his affection came wrapped in command.
Once he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click, she exhaled deeply and flopped back onto the bed, her fingers grazing her temple.
She looked up at the ceiling for a moment, her eyes filled with thought, then shook her head. "What exactly goes on inside the mind of my dangerously clever husband?" she muttered to herself, half in frustration.
There was no denying it Aditya Singhania was an enigma she hadn't even begun to solve. And somehow, that made her heart race even more.
As she leaned back against the pillows, her fingers absentmindedly touched the spot on her forehead where he'd kissed her moments ago. Her expression softened. "Mr. Monster," she whispered under her breath, "I don't know whether to run from you or run to you."
Kabir stood with his hands behind his back, his voice carrying an unusual seriousness. "And Boss... the most important thing," he said, lowering his tone, "the sponsor at Bhabhi's university... he's actually Vansh bhai's old enemy."
A shadow of concern flickered across his face as he added, "And now that Bhabhi is there, I think he's planning something. It could be dangerous... very dangerous."
He narrowed his eyes but stayed calm, swirling the glass in his hand.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he replied, "Then, Kabir... you already know what must be done."
Kabir gave a sharp nod, the lines on his face tightening with determination. "Understood, Boss. I know exactly what to do."
He rose from the couch and headed toward the bar counter in the corner of his study. He rolled his sleeves up as he spoke. "Enough with the tension now. Time to ease the mind."
He picked up two glasses and gestured to Kabir. "Come on, Kabir. Sit. Pour yourself a drink... and for me."
Kabir hesitated for a second before joining him. "Boss, you must be tired."
Just then, his phone vibrated on the table. He glanced at the screen, and his entire expression softened. "Oh, Riya..." he said warmly before picking up.
"Yes, beta?" he greeted.
On the other end, Riya's voice was trembling, barely holding back her tears.
"Bhai... why don't you all ever scold me?"
She frowned, caught off guard. "What kind of question is that, Riya?"
Riya sniffled. "You all are always so sweet to me. So now, when someone else even slightly raises their voice, I feel like crying..."
His voice turned protective. "Did someone say something to you?"
She hesitated before admitting, "Not much... just a senior scolded me today."
"Should I come over right now?" he asked sharply, already reaching for his keys.
"No!" she quickly said. "Come in the morning. I'm already home now."
Then her voice brightened slightly. "And Bhai... I want to meet Bhabhi too."
He smiled. "Of course. Tomorrow, I'll bring you with me."
"I love you, Bhai!" she chirped. "Wait, put me on speaker."
He laughed softly and hit the speaker icon. "Here."
Riya said playfully, "I love you, Kabir Bhai!"
Both men chuckled, shaking their heads.
As the call ended, he set the phone aside and turned serious again. "Kabir, I think Riya needs security now."
Kabir replied, "Boss, I'll ask her if..."
He cut him off, "No. Don't ask. Just do it. Hire security for her by tomorrow."
He picked up his drink and took a sip, the stress of the day slowly settling into his muscles. A while later, as fatigue took over, Kabir and Dara helped him to his bedroom. He was half-asleep by the time they laid him on the bed, turned off the lights, and locked the room behind them.
The next morning, Dadi was rummaging through her drawers, muttering to herself.
"Where did I put that medicine...?"
She walked in and noticed her struggle. "Dadi, let me help you find it." She joined in the search, carefully scanning the bedside area.
Just then, Roop entered, adjusting her dupatta. "Bhabhi, I saw Dadi's medicine in Adi Bhaiya's room last night."
Meera turned sharply. "Roop, why didn't you say that earlier? Go bring it."
Roop glanced away and shrugged. "Bhabhi, I'm busy right now. Why don't you go?"
Meera frowned and looked toward the hallway. "Chhaya, go get the medicine from Mr. Singhania's room."
Just as Chhaya is about to move, Roop jumps in with her signature smirk, "Bhabhi... bura mat maniyega, par wo apke pati ka room hai... aur aap kisi or ko wahan bhej rahin hain?"
(Translation - Bhabhi, please don't mind but that's your husband's room, and you're sending someone else in there.)
She was confused, "What?"
Roop lowered her voice dramatically, "Dekhiye, wo abhi so rahe hain. Ab bhagwan jane kis haalat mein so rahe hain. Matlab... agar shirt pahankar so rahe ho toh chalo thik bhi hai, par agar bina shirt ke ho toh? Kya aapko accha lagega ki koi aur aapke pati ko us halat mein dekhe?"
(Translation - Look, he's still sleeping right now and only God knows in what condition he's sleeping. I mean, if he's wearing a shirt, then fine... but if he's not, would you be okay with someone else seeing your husband like that?)
She now clearly irritated, "Roop..."
Roop innocently said, "Bhabhi if I were your place, I would never let that happen. Not because I don't trust others, but because I value the respect of that space. Kya pta kab kiski niyat khrab ho jaye. Or aapke pati to itne handsome hain log unhe dekh ke hi apna mann bhar lein"
She stepped closer, "What kind of nonsense are saying, Roop? Chhaya works here, she respects boundaries."
Roop still calm, "I'm not saying Chhaya will do anything wrong... but you never really know anyone, bhabhi. And honestly, if it doesn't matter to you, go ahead and send her. After all, he's your husband. Not mine. Mujhe kya?"
(Meanwhile Chhaya awkwardly looks between them, unsure what to do.)
She says, "I'm going on my own to my husband's room," her voice laced with both defiance and confusion.
As she climbs the stairs, her hands slide lightly along the railing. Her footsteps echo softly in the silent corridor.
And she mutters to herself, "If my husband doesn't have a problem, then why do others keep poking their noses in? He's actually... kind, attentive... caring."
She stops midway and leans against the wall for a moment, touching her forehead as if trying to shake off her own thoughts. "Hey Kanha," she whispers with a helpless smile, "what is happening to me? These days, my tongue slips more than it should. I catch myself... defending him. Complimenting him."
She lets out a breath, trying to compose herself. "Mr. Singhania can't possibly be a good man... right? No. He's arrogant. Stubborn. Controlling." Then she pauses again, "But he's also the only one..."
Shaking her head, she reaches the door.
Her hand lingers on the doorknob, heart racing faster than she'd admit. "This is ridiculous," she whispers, "I'm being ridiculous."
And finally, with a deep breath, she opens the door to his room.
He was sleeping upside down, one hand clutching a pillow pressed against his face. His blanket was half on the floor, and his room was a complete mess.
She stepped in quietly, muttering under her breath while picking things up. "This man will wake up and turn this house upside down room itna ganda kyo hai jaise inhe to pta hi nahi ye kisne kiya hai."
She slowly moved closer to him, hesitating for a moment before carefully reaching out to pull the blanket over him.
Just as she gently tried to lift the blanket, her bangle got caught in the fabric.
Her breath hitched.
Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound so loud she was sure he could hear it, even in his sleep.
She froze, her eyes widening as she realized she was trapped.
Looking up in exasperation, she mumbled, "Hey Kanha... why are you always on Mr. Singhania's side? Please, do something."
And in the very next moment, as if her whispered plea had triggered something divine, he moved with swift, fluid precision pulling her in with a sudden motion so quick she barely registered it.
Before she could react, she found herself lying against his chest. Her eyes squeezed shut in surprise, heart hammering in her ribcage.
With a husky, sleepy voice, he murmured, "Stalking your husband while he sleeps, are you?"
Her breath caught. "M-Mr. Singhania... please let me go..."
He didn't budge. Instead, he whispered with a teasing edge, "You know, baccha... this is exactly the kind of morning I want. Every. Single. Day."
Just then, the door creaked open and Roop peeked in. The moment she took in the scene, her eyes went wide and she spun around immediately, flustered.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Sorry, bhabhi! I didn't realize Adi baba was in such a romantic mood this morning. Looks like he didn't even give you time to lock the door!"
Her eyes flew open in mortification, while his smirk deepened like he was enjoying every second of it.
Roop chuckled mischievously. "No worries I'll lock it for you. Enjoy!"
And before either of them could say a word, she closed the door with a little dramatic flair.
Still tangled against him, she groaned into his shirt. "This is so embarrassing..."
"Why this is embarrassing I'm your husband baccha."
She was lying against his chest as his arms securely wrapped around her waist.
He spoke, his voice lower than before, almost brushing against her ear, "Let's talk about something serious now, Baccha."
Her body tensed slightly, "K-Kya...?" she asked, barely above a whisper, lifting her eyes to his face.
His gaze didn't waver. Calm. Composed. "Our conversation yesterday... it was left incomplete."
She bit her lower lip, her fingers instinctively gripping the fabric of his shirt. "Aap shaq kar hain mujh par."
He shifted slightly, his hand trailing up gently cradle the side of her face, tilting it toward him. "Shaq nahi karta mein baccha," he said, his tone soft but weighty. "I don't make space for doubt when it comes to my wife."
She blinked, unsure where he was heading.
"But I expect one thing from you," he continued. "That you came to me with your truth... no matter how messy, no matter how painful. I expect that you'll trust me enough to say it yourself."
He paused, his thumb brushing against her cheeks, "Because if I have to find out from someone else..."
Thank you so much for reading!
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